Diversions
by strange isle
Summary: Sequel to Routines. Lies, disguises, turnabout, and triumph. The BLU spy finally has a good day. Warning for rape. Spy/Spy.
1. Chapter 1

**AN**: This is a direct follow-up to Routines, so please read that story first for this one to make the most sense!

* * *

War was mostly wait and the trick was not to let the long stretches of quiet unhinge you, or your nerves wouldn't hold when it really mattered. I had been on edge far too much lately to ignore this truth. Pressing my eyes shut, I turned to lean a temple against the gratifyingly cool wall of my room. I lounged this way a while, crosswise on my bed, listening to the percussion of rain on concrete and steel. It was a relaxing sound, and so rare in the desert.

For all the sophistication of the BLU base, it amused me to note a leak had sprung just a meter from where I rested— not all of the complex's inhabitants had the advantage of a second floor above their heads. Slow drops plinked a counterpoint to the rain as they fell in the tin mug I had scrounged from the kitchen. I glanced at the cup's water level, but it was nothing to be concerned with just yet.

Cartridges lay strewn across my bed, and I soon resumed my task of gun maintenance, grabbing several at a time to refill the speedloaders for my revolver. I had made fine use of them in RED's base yesterday.

A soldier had been the first casualty of my excursion, offed the way I had wanted: deliberately and with time enough to savor the experience. "Your trust— while flattering— was sadly misplaced," I told him at knifepoint, wearing the mask of my enemy. His face at that moment had been worth the inconvenience of battle in this remote station.

It seemed in my excitement that my grip had not been quite firm enough over his mouth, for his dying throes attracted a bit of unwanted attention. My fast reloading saved my life when their scout (also deceased) came upon the scene, and in a stroke of luck he had been transporting a sheaf of classified documents that would be of the highest interest to Headquarters. I knew, having sneaked a look at them myself first. Officially my excursion was a success.

Privately I was more than a little frustrated.

Immediately upon infiltration, I slipped down the straightest route to what I knew were HIS quarters, my body wound tight in anticipatory thrill. When the path led to an empty bedroom even more austere than my own, the sight had been disheartening. My hope refused to die completely, but as corridor after corridor revealed no trace of the spy, I had to accept the truth of things. All of the other REDs could be accounted for. Where had he been? That he could find me so effortlessly, while I struggled to... no, best not to dwell on that point. Now I was forced to be patient and wait for the team's paranoia to subside before I could— A few quick raps sounded on my door, jolting me from my thoughts.

"Oi, 's me. Mind if I come in?" a voice called out. Hmm, Sniper. Curious.

"The door's unlocked." I had no illusion that the only person I truly wanted to keep out couldn't pick a simple lock in seconds.

"Doc said 'e saw you with my mug," Sniper said quietly as he took his first step inside. I turned this statement over in my mind until I realized what he was referring to.

"That's it on the floor." I gestured in the direction of the leak, then affected disinterest. Any interaction between the two of us had been rather... strained since that day. It didn't stop me from stealing a glance as he knelt to take the cup, replacing it with my ashtray in what seemed an afterthought. Our eyes met as he stood and I broke the contact purposefully, hinting for him to take his leave.

When I didn't hear movement, I looked up expectantly at him. He stared back at me, expression unreadable. I breathed a deep sigh. "You're not only here for your item, are you."

"Shit— I'll get to the point," he started. "The other day you caught me off guard, and well— it's not like I'm some fag, mind you, just— using my own hand's gettin' awfully tiresome..." his words trailed off as he waited for my reaction. Fuck. This was not what I had imagined by any stretch. Sniper figured he could just change his mind as he pleased? I couldn't help but be indignant.

"It's not a game for you, is it? Burning bridges only to take back your nasty words? You made it quite clear what you thought of my proposal, and you can hardly expect me to be flattered."

"That was a knee-jerk reaction— I'm afraid I didn't give you a fair go. Come on, don't make this harder for me than it is." He took one step forward, then another, and the reality of the situation pressed in upon me. Sniper did look especially attractive, his smile on the sly side, his posture a little straighter than usual. I couldn't forget the grief he'd given me, but hell if I'd allow my pride to screw me out of this after wanting him for so long.

"Right... what exactly do you feel comfortable doing?"

"God, I don't know. Just touch me, get me off. Your hands. Your mouth, maybe. I'll... do the same for you." My pulse quickened at his words. Sniper was close enough now to pull down next to me and he let me do so with no resistance, the cup dropping from his grasp, our legs tangling as our bodies met. He made to roll on top, but I pushed a hip into his and steered him onto his back instead.

"Nnnhh. So forceful." I insinuated my hand past his belt to discover he was slightly hard already.

"You seemed to like it," I said, enjoying the feeling of him beneath me very much as well

"Guess there's no hidin' that." Sniper's arms slid around to clutch first at my back and then lower still. He murmured a vague protest into my ear as I removed my hand to trail a line along his sides with my fingers. When I shifted my weight, he arched up into me and we gasped simultaneously as our erections pressed together. Damn! Suddenly I wanted more contact, less constraint, more bare skin...

I swallowed, contenting myself with Sniper's shirt for now, my thumb grazing a nipple (another gasp) as I hiked it up past his chest. He helped pull it the rest of the way off and returned the favor by starting on the buttons of mine, his progress hindered when I replaced my hand and began teasing him with slow, painstaking strokes. The pace served my own ends. Maybe Sniper had expected a quick lay, but I would take my time and leave him craving my touch. He'd come to me again or feel my absence keenly.

At last Sniper finished with my shirt, his mouth open slightly from my efforts. I shrugged it off as he ran his fingers underneath the back of my balaclava and up through my hair. Oh fuck... The feeling was uncommonly sensual and it was my turn to be distracted. My breath was quick when I lifted the aviators from Sniper's face to admire his eyes, pale blue and striking. I smiled as I slid my lips along his jaw, touching the skin lightly with my tongue, and he pulled away at the sensation to study me.

"Too gay for you?" I taunted.

"No, it was... nice."

"I can do it more."

"Please."

I placed my lips on his skin again, breathing in. The sniper's scent was strangely neutral. I was expecting the weathered smell of things exposed to wind and sun for days on end, but this was pleasant enough, I supposed. Sniper was being remarkably cooperative, and that was good too.

I ran my mouth from his cheekbone to the base of his neck, where I halted. A frisson of menace ran through me, the same feeling I'd gotten on the field countless times before a pyro-trapped hallway or the moment an engineer's back was about to turn. Experience had taught me never to ignore it. As my mind ran through the possibilities, I traced the path again, scrutinizing the details. My hand shook with dread. Oh yes. There it was. A thin, nearly invisible gap of air between where my finger touched skin and the "sniper's" face actually appeared. I felt myself recoiling. This deception— the ignored signs, unmistakable— I had deluded myself...

"Somethin' wrong, Spy?" the other man asked, freeing himself the rest of the way.

Fear gave way to surety within the span of a second.

"No," I answered, my course of action becoming unequivocally plain to me. Nothing was wrong. That much was absolutely true. Agitation had clouded my mind in my other encounters with the spy, but now that I held the advantage, there was only an intense clarity. Forcing his hand would be the first step.

"Here's what you are going to do," I began, my voice patient and level. "You'll put your mouth to use right now, get me all nice and slick. Then you're going to lean back and spread those fine legs for me... Sniper." The spy pursed his lips at my words, looking thoughtful.

"Funny, I was beginnin' to have similar plans for you."

"Oh? Then do you have any complaints if we leave it to chance?" I asked, moving for my hidden knife, my excitement building. The spy grinned.

"Not at all, mate. But I insist on my lucky coin for this," he said, his hand inching toward his own pocket. In an instant, I reversed my arm and smashed him across the face with my fist. He raised his head, false countenance twisted into a grimace. I was gratified to see a trickle of blood running from his nose to his lip.

The spy had apparently not learned his lesson, as he made a second go for his blade; I intercepted the man's wrists easily and crushed them until he hissed in pain. It would be all too appropriate to restrain him with my knife I felt, but the situation ultimately required a little more control. I went for the revolver on my bedside table and quelled any unspoken protests when I steadied it at his head.


	2. Chapter 2

The man was at my mercy and he knew it. True, his glare seemed defiant enough, but I was familiar with this front, intimately so. How must it feel for him, the reversal of fortune? I could appreciate the small signs: the tension in his posture, the clenched fist, the way he worried at his bottom lip with his tongue, now biting it slightly. He brought a hand up to dab at the blood from my strike, then dropped it, unsure of what movements I might see as threatening. Quick eyes scanned my face, searching for some change of expression, some sign of his fate. This cowed demeanor was just— my god, it was exhilarating, but we'd stayed frozen in place long enough.

Rougher than necessary, I divested the spy of his knife and wristwatch. No gun, I noted as I slid the two objects along the floor and out of reach. "It will be nice to have spares," I said. The spy considered this, his mouth forming a grim smile that left as soon as I moved again for my own knife. I sent it sliding to join the collection— the less to concern myself with, the better. All I needed was my revolver, which the man now seemed transfixed by.

"Put your mind at ease." I said in our native tongue. "Blood on my suit is bad enough. I won't go making a mess of my room, not unless I have to." A clean shot was a waste as well, too quick of an end for a thing worth drawing out. "I'd much rather continue where we left off. As I won our 'coin toss,' I believe you were to kneel there on the floor and... mmm, I think you'd best get on with it." The other spy forced out a laugh.

"I suppose I deserve this—"

"Yes," I snapped, giving him a shove. Yes, he did.

The spy got to the floor after that with no further comment; the rain must have stopped at some point, leaving only the sounds of his movement. I placed one leg on either side of him, attentive as he went to his knees and freed my cock from my pants. He leaned in, a guarded look on his face. It wasn't taking much to make me quite hard again— just the sight of his freshly bitten lips would have been enough. It really was a wonderful mouth, the Sniper's...

After a moment's hesitation he took me in his hand, flicking his tongue out and pressing it slowly to my skin. Then he licked. Oh, it was good. So good, a hot, wet pressure trailing up my entire length from the base to the tip... _Holy mother of god_... How long had it been since I'd allowed myself enjoyment that wasn't by my own hand? The feeling was intense beyond any recollection of the act.

As the pleasure subsided, I became aware of curious eyes fixed on mine, intent on my reaction. That stare... No— NO, this was NOT for his benefit. "_Spy_," I hissed. "Concentrate on the task at hand."

"Your accent—" he said without warning, "I can't tell you how nostalgic it makes me. When we're speaking together this way, it's as if there's no fighting, no teammates, just us..." An unpleasant revelation, but I wouldn't allow him to unnerve me. I could see what he was trying to accomplish. More insight gained at a steep cost.

At my lack of reaction, he changed his tactics. "Really, I might just do this out of fondness for you. No gun would be necessary..." He added, giving my revolver a sidelong glance. Pathetically obvious. "You would like to see your Sniper kneeling here, compliant?"

"The gun stays," I said, forcing it into his shoulder, feeling half-mad from the delay. "Keep going." The spy let out the breath he had been holding; the sensation on me was warm and tantalizing.

At last he took me fully into his mouth and began to suck. Lightly at first, but soon the press of his tongue became forceful, the suction stronger. I rested one hand on the back of his head and curled my fingers into his hair, pushing downward. It felt short, like the real sniper's, and I wondered if it had been cut just to deceive me. The spy gave a start when I hit the back of his throat, but got the hint, taking in as much as he could on successive bobs.

My other hand gripped my revolver, the thought of his powerlessness as exciting as his attentions to me. What a terrible man I'd become, and more terrible still for finding amusement in that fact. Ohh... but it was his fault, really. I would never have entertained something like this with any seriousness before he— did what he did, and I couldn't find it in myself to feel bad in any way. Not now especially. Shit... He was very talented... I didn't want to finish now, but mmmm— I really did need to stop him...

A hand on the small of my back jerked me to my senses. Thin knife cuts from that night in front of the window stung as he traced the lines with a delicate touch— soft, gloveless fingers bringing with them a sense of revulsion so strong that I pushed him off of me. "Enough!"

The spy pulled back, catching his breath. "What, you don't like it?" Genuine surprise showed in his voice. "I thought I was doing well."

"That's not it." I said, calming a bit. "No, you're a natural-born cocksucker."

"Well... Knowing how you are with compliments, I'll take what I can," he said, licking the taste from his lips. "I hope you're beginning to appreciate me, BLU Spy. You might think it vain to say, but in some ways I truly am irreplaceable." He looked up suddenly. "Let me finish, please." The lightness of his tone stunned me until I realized exactly how desperate he must be to get me off before this could go further.

"I don't think so."

He sat quietly for the span of a few seconds. "So then. How do we do this?"

"Undress completely. Then come back to the bed." He nodded and started on his boots. For a man who made a living on his deftness, his progress was slow.

"You were at our base yesterday," the spy said, ridding himself of the first one.

Well. So I had been. Was this another attempt at distraction? I found myself honestly curious about what he might say.

"You were there looking for me?" We both knew the answer to this already. I made no reply as the spy tugged off the other boot. "Killing my teammates was indelicate," he started again with a shake of his head. "I've passed up many opportunities with yours, you know. I've seen them at their most vulnerable."

So he had some self control. A shame he didn't exercise it more. The RED spy began to slide the trousers from his hips, drawing my attention back to his false form.

"Did you actually think your sniper would go for you?" Again with this useless talk! I opened my mouth to silence him, but the spy persisted. "He seems quite content handling things on his own. Want to know how he moans when he gets himself off? I've heard it." I thought of the Cloak and Dagger I'd taken from the man and realized— with a twinge of jealousy— just how plausible his words were.

"Pay attention to what I'm doing right now— you think I care? This—" I motioned at the spy's body, "Is just as good. Better even. Did you think I wanted him for his cunning mind?"

"Ah, poor Sniper. So this is an ideal situation for you, then. You have _his_ body and _my _cunning mind."

"Not what I meant. And you're not so clever that I didn't catch you. Just when did you intend to make yourself known?" The spy looked taken aback for a second, then there was a hint of something else... smugness?

"I wasn't. Not until you said what you did."

For the first time since taking control, I faltered. If I hadn't realized— kissed him— on the mouth... whispered kind words to him, gotten him off— I thought I had known the worst he could do, but this was an even grosser violation. He wasn't a sadist, he was something— far beyond that, something— _diseased_. A moment too late I saw his intent. The quirk of his mouth told me he knew he succeeded. Sly bastard! A surge of anger grew in me and I raised my gun at his face.

The smile vanished, but it wasn't enough. "Stand up," I barked. He did so. "Strip." He tugged off his underwear and socks with a haste delightful compared with earlier. I pulled myself the rest of the way onto the bed and laid back, propping a pillow between my head and the wall so I could see all of him. It was almost the same position I'd been in when he'd first entered the room. Now I was shirtless and my pants were partway down my thighs, but it was easy to feel in control with his nakedness and my revolver, which I used to gesture the spy down to the bed with me.

I looked at him, making sure I had all of his attention. There was no question of that. "I want you to get yourself ready and then fuck yourself on me," I said, enjoying his expression as my words sunk in. "I don't want to have to do anything at all. Now..."


	3. Chapter 3

The RED spy looked for a second as though he didn't know what it was he should do first, which was absurd considering the lack of hesitation he'd shown with me. Finally he put two fingers in his mouth, wetting them as discreetly as the situation allowed. He swallowed hard as he prepared himself, and it occurred to me that he might be one of those men who only ever did the penetrating. Here he seemed out of his depth.

Once this was done, he spat into his hand several times and worked it over my erection. The smooth skin felt incongruous with the illusion of the sniper's calloused fingers, but I couldn't deny the flood of satisfaction they brought with them. I resisted leaning into the touch. This was his job entirely.

The spy straddled me, holding my cock in place to lower himself onto it. His thighs shook on either side of me as he bore his weight downwards. He let out a sharp gasp a few seconds in. "Spy— this isn't going to work." I weighed telling him to go ahead anyway with the fact that this wasn't going to feel great for me either unless he used more spit— or—

"The nightstand, bottom drawer." I didn't need to say how little he deserved this, but I was growing impatient. He stared at me and I looked aside, preempting any words of gratitude. They would have been unbearable. The spy rummaged until he found a tube, flattened and almost empty; he coaxed the remainder out onto his palm and slicked it around me, retaking his place above my hips. We locked gazes as he slid himself onto me with an agonizing slowness. His jaw tightened with the strain, but I could tell this was much better than before. The spy paused halfway to take a gulping breath and I nodded at him to keep going. He resigned himself, clenching his teeth and pushing the rest of the way, making my mouth fall open from the wonderful tightness and heat. This was exactly what I had wanted.

"Keep... going." I managed to say. "Don't stop for any reason."

The spy began riding me, wincing initially. I savored every nuance of his face, Sniper's face, as he impaled himself on me. Little beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. I broke the eye contact to admire the play of muscles on his torso and thighs as he rode up and down my cock. I thought of past lovers, inexperienced ones who'd required coaxing and seduction, and the delight I'd felt when I finally had them— but this was not like that at all.

Another memory arose of an early mission, before mediguns and before BLU, of a bad wound and slow convalescence. I'd identified the man responsible, made sure we crossed paths on my next assignment, made sure he knew it was _me _who would be killing him. And when I finally stood there above him... a baleful drunkenness came over me, a heady lust. That's what this was.

Feeling his body on mine, I knew perfection. Each time he sank all the way onto me was its own distinct revenge for the offenses he'd committed. "Spyyy..." I murmured. "Your soldier died believing I was you. Were the two of you friends?" I'd been unsure of how he regarded the other REDs. The spy gave no indication now, but god if didn't feel amazing to say it.

"They have no idea of the monster you are, so I had to educate him. The boy too. Poor thing. I'm no sharpshooter and he was so fast... I got his shoulder first... then right around the stomach. It must've been three, four hits before I made a lethal one." The spy paused and I pressed the revolver against his body. "I said don't stop."

The other spy bit his lip again, looking damnably good as he reached to wipe a trickle of sweat from his face. I watched, fascinated as a bit of blood from his nose smeared along with it. His breath came in pants now as he strove to please me, and there was something deeply satisfying about being the cause of his exhaustion. Still, the pace was becoming increasingly too slow for me. I decided the spy had done enough and his eyes flew open as I took over, holding him in place the best I could and pushing upwards with a steady rhythm.

He gave a hoarse cry, his legs spread before me, and I felt caught in a strange intimacy as I gripped him by the hips and thrust, turned on beyond reason. One of his hands was behind him for balance, but the other snaked up between us as he stroked himself and moaned. He wanted it. Oh god, he wanted it— and yet I didn't stop. "You're enjoying this," I breathed, wanting him to feel the same shame that I had.

He smiled with great effort. "The best spies... are opportunists." Another thrust and he leaned his head back and shuddered. I couldn't see his face anymore, but I felt each tremor of his body as he got closer and closer. The spy made one last sound, short and strangled, before his limbs went rigid and he came across my chest.

I made use of his distraction, clamping my free hand around his waist and pounding myself into him. Thank god, thank god for the illusion, the barrier of Sniper's body. That's what made this safe— _unngh_— made it possible. Oh, more than possible... It was glorious— _fuck_— it was— ohhh... _GOD_!

* * *

I sat there shaky and spent, expending all of my effort to keep my gun level with his chest. I just needed a moment... The spy's weight felt inconsequential and I discerned for the first time how thin his tall form actually was. I'd built him up in my mind as some inescapable specter, but that was foolish. He was real, physical, and not so frightening now.

The man pulled away from me to lay at my side, his expression far away. Recovered somewhat, I brought my free hand to his throat and rested it there. He leaned into the touch, mistaking it for something else in his haze. Then I tightened my fingers around him. For a moment he remained insensate, then panic set in.

"Stop— Spy!" he cried out, gasping. "That was nice, wasn't it? It doesn't have to end now." He wheezed. "You ha— have interrogation rooms. 'There's information I still need,' you say and that could hardly be called a lie." I crawled onto him, positioning my thumb over his windpipe but relaxing my pressure. "Keep me there! Take your revenge from me how— however you will! As often as you want!" This was probably the closest the other spy would get to begging for his life, and the words sparked a new desire in me. It was so inviting, but... I strengthened my grip instead and the spy forced out a pained noise.

"Shh, shh, I'm not killing you, not yet." I drank in the sight of his wide eyes and heaving chest. "I only wanted to see how you'd look when I did this." He heard me, but didn't relax. "You and I know, truly, that to harbor you would be great foolishness on my part. I can't think of a more dangerous creature to keep— In fact, I should have shot you already. Get up and get your clothes."

The spy staggered to his feet at the loss of my weight. I used a corner of my bedsheets to clean myself off, then hunted for my fallen shirt. We dressed in silence. The man had gotten his hands on the real sniper's clothing for added realism, I'd come to realize, and I wondered what he'd say when the articles resurfaced, bloodied on a corpse. "Done now?"

"Yes," the spy answered, without inflection.

"Make sure the hallway's clear."

"It's safe," he said, peering out the door to either side.

"We're going now to a quiet place outside, understand? And on the way I need you to show me how you've been getting in all this time."

"This way. To the right." He set off without a backward glance, knowing my gun would be on him. I had to lengthen my strides to keep up.

"Is it an air duct?" I was almost certain it was. I hadn't found the ducts in the RED base ideal for infiltration, but the ones here weren't necessarily the same. Once found, they could be grated off, booby trapped. If not for this spy, then for his inevitable successor. Or, I admitted, it could be some other type of passageway entirely. One mirrored in the RED fortress, ready to be exploited. I had to know. The spy seemed almost coy, however.

"Almost there. I do not wish to give away the surprise." I allowed him this last little rebellion. His pace however had to be checked.

"Slow down, spy!" Unnoticeable at first, he was now moving quickly enough to outpace me. I sped up too and drew a bead on his back when it became clear he would not stop. How sad. The last, desperate act of a man unable to face his own death. I'd have to shoot him here, never mind the mess.

He turned the corner. I would have careened after him in pursuit if not for a tiny sound that nearly stopped my heart.

A sentry.

Not ours.

I flattened against the wall and just breathed. No, there was no chance of our engineer changing his plans without having informed anyone. He was not an impulsive man. This meant I had been inches from charging undisguised into the aim of a deadly machine. And the spy... _The spy_. He was free.

I tried to push aside my rage as these next actions were crucial. I had my cloak on me, but that wouldn't make me invincible against a spy and a wary engineer. The odds simply weren't in my favor. This meant leaving for now to inform the rest of the team. The best move, surely, since the REDs wouldn't act without some other force in support of the sentry. I had just decided when the second terrifying noise sounded behind me. The whisper of a spy's cloak.

I pivoted, bringing my gun upwards, but course it was too late.

"You are not the only one with spares." I twisted my neck to peer at the object pressed to my shoulder. The weapon was unfamiliar to me, a pale, slim-barreled pistol of some kind. He pulled the trigger and I gave a jolt, expecting the same nerve-searing pain as the last time I was hit. The force of the contact shot was enough to bring me to my knees, but the sensation was different from before. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't agonizing either, the sting on my shoulder growing more and more muted as I stumbled, trying to stand.

"I'm glad the sentry did not finish you. What a waste that would have been!" The spy's hand was on my cheek and I jerked away, making the world around me lurch.

"Strange... that you would think so." I was on the floor now, muscles unresponsive to my urgent commands.

"I'm angry with you to be sure, but I know the blame lies in me." He grasped my ankles with a firm grip. "That's not an apology, by the way."

"Of course..."

"Medic scolds me when I smoke as much as I do, but that's the least dangerous of my vices..." The spy's voice sounded muffled and far away now. "I doubt he'd... quick to supply... tranquilizer if... " I was being dragged by my legs, the swimming grid of the ceiling tile making me ill.

My sight darkened for what felt like a second, but when I could see again, I was in another part of the base entirely. I made out a voice... unnh, the spy's, maybe... saying something and a loud, violent one answered it. Fighting? No, no movement... The effort to focus was huge... The need to stay awake an abstraction, another man's responsibility, and I closed my eyes...

* * *

Fun facts: The spy in Team Fortress Classic had a tranq gun. This shit is retro.

Up next is a pretty dumb epilogue. So dumb. Oh my god.


	4. Epilogue

When I came to, my ears were ringing. A pinkish shape wavered in front of my vision, and I blinked several times in an attempt to clear the haze. The shape gradually coalesced into a human figure facing away from me, legs drawn up. Another blink and I saw what seemed to be Sniper sitting in nothing but his shorts. But was it actually him, or... Oh. Sniper's hands were bound behind him, clearing the matter up.

I tried to massage my temples only to discover my hands were tied as well. That's right... Sniper jerked his head up and turned towards me, wrinkling his nose. "I swear to god, you smell like jizz. Caught you wanking, did he?

"...Something like that." Sniper looked sour.

"Well. I hope you weren't imagining ME."

"I didn't have to," I said, making my face as neutral as possible.

"Good. That's good. I don't know what the hell's up with spies in this place. First you're after my ass, then some RED creeper shows up, strips me next to naked with the most disgusting look on his face, and I'm thinkin' 'my god, this queer's gonna rape me.'" I nearly choked.

"That's absurd. We are professionals."

"Professionals! Professionals have standards! They don't go tryin' to screw the closest man just because they're out in the middle of a desert."

This attraction could very well be due to lack of standards. I'd give him that.

"Why couldn't you be, say... an auburn-haired goddess in a catsuit? Isn't that what your lot's supposed to be like? To think I'd get stationed with some fancy, prissy fag of a spy." What a trying man— but it was hard to be angry at the sniper when I had just fucked his facsimile sideways.

"I apologize for whatever grief I've caused. It must have been difficult for you." Sniper gave a solemn nod. "What did the other spy say when he brought me?"

"He just said 'Snipeur, yeoo are reeally missing owwwt...' in this utterly shit accent. You know, like yours. So tell me, exactly what am I missin'?"

"E-excuse me?" He didn't mean—

"Our base? The explosions? The devil's goin' on out there?"

"A forward sentry at the very least. Teleporters and reinforcements too, I'd venture to say. Let's untie each other and even the odds."

"Be careful. Your hands are all covered in dick." Christ! "Can you reach from where you are?" I began inching forward and Sniper's head whipped around in panic. "Hang on, any closer and we're practically spooning!" This man was calling ME prissy?

"Suit yourself. We will just have to wait it out and hope everyone out there doesn't die from one man's stubbornness," I said, flopping against the back of the closet and allowing a smile to creep across my face as I replayed the day's events to myself. My head was still fuzzy, but I knew I'd gotten off with a fraction of the punishment that I could have. The other spy had to know how fucking lucky he'd been as well.

I spared a glance in Sniper's direction. "Let me know if you change your mind— preferably before the casualties start to add up"

"God DAMN you smell like jizz."

"There come trials we all must endure, Sniper. This is yours."


End file.
